


Saccharine

by superdanganisland



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Angst, Canon Related, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, High School, POV Alternating, School Dances, Snow, Teenage Drama, Winter, fuyupeko gift exchange 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21691111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superdanganisland/pseuds/superdanganisland
Summary: Sometimes, your first instinct is the right one.
Relationships: Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko/Pekoyama Peko
Comments: 15
Kudos: 92





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thewildwilds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewildwilds/gifts).



> Here is my (early) entry to the Fuyupeko gift exchange hosted by tumblr user may-we-have-peace! This ended up being way longer than I anticipated, so it is being broken into 3 parts. I'll post the next one the following week, and then the last part the week after that.
> 
> My assignment for the exchange was thewildwilds, who suggested a fancy Christmas date! But it won't be QUITE that easy for our protags, because some high school feelings get in the way, and... well. This takes place in a non-despair setting at Hope's Peak, and can also be interpreted as a slightly alternate take on the idea of "Peko's first love" that is mentioned in her FTE's. Also, apparently Christmas in Japan is much more of a "romantic" holiday than it is in other places.
> 
> FYI - there won't be any explicitly sexual content in this one.

It was a week into December, and an unfamiliar face sat near her at lunch that day. She paid him no mind, and went back to her business.

\---  


It was two weeks until the Christmas party, and no one could ever shut up to him about it.

The annual Hope’s Peak Christmas Party was one of the most hyped-up events of the calendar year. Each winter, the student council began crafting their plans months in advance to create the most grandiose holiday celebration on this side of the country. Among the festivities included a vast assortment of fanciful food and hand-crafted treats, all expertly created by their in-house chefs, most of them Ultimate Students themselves (besides the truckload of catered-in fast food fried chicken from You-Know-Where, based on popular demand), and enough tinsel and string lights to put a noticeable spike in the school’s electricity bill. The Hope’s Peak party was on a level of its own, and rightfully so - when you had the most talented students in the country hosting a party, the end product tended to be spectacular. It wasn’t uncommon to catch students from nearby high schools attempting to sneak in to get a taste of the spectacle, though most didn’t get far once they ran into the head of security, the former boxer, which the rest of the school knew better than to trifle with.

The biggest topic of all amongst the academy, and the worst part of it all? Everyone was expected to bring a date. 

You wouldn’t get in trouble for  _ not  _ bringing one, of course… you’d just be a social outcast in a high school full of cutthroat teenagers looking to one-up each other in any way they could. Kuzuryuu didn’t go last year, and he certainly wasn’t going to go this year.

The administration, of course, didn’t promote the dating aspect—it was simply tradition amongst the student body. Hope’s Peak had taken steps in the past to try and actively discourage this aspect of the event, but trying to keep high schoolers apart from one another was a whole beast in itself. One year, the head offices attempted to ban it altogether, citing that it “distracted from their studies”, and they were mostly right - but once the news got out, the senior students of the academy managed to whip up the rest of the school into an all-out frenzy, hanging posters all over the building that the administration hated fun and protested by not coming to class (not that it was even against the rules at Hope’s Peak, being a non-traditional institution and all). However, all the fuss got their attention, and the next year the party was back and better than ever, albeit with a few extra rules – “no grinding”, of course, being a staple at high school dances.

Kuzuryuu wished the administration would have grown some balls and left the party cancelled indefinitely so he wouldn’t have to worry about all this extra nonsense. The party always took place right before Christmas, and – stupidly – right before all of their biggest projects of the year were due. Talk about a pain in the ass.

For this year’s project, he’d been assigned with three random boys from some of the other classes to work on a group presentation on for their final grade, three boys of whom he’d had no intention of ever interacting with and who he shared nothing in common. The objective, he guessed, was to get them all to “expand their horizons” and meet some new people, but there was nothing worse than forced socialization with people he’d never met, and based on their reaction to his surname, they didn’t care much for him either. Whatever. His participation in their grade was a business transaction, and that was it.

He just wished they’d focus and get their shit done. It was tough enough to concentrate without them yapping at each other across the table while he was trying to read.

“What do you even GET a girl? Perfume?”

“Dude, you can’t get a girl perfume because that’s implying she smells bad. Just get her something safe, like a gift card for a store or something.”

“That’s so boring. You might as well hand her some cash and tell her to go have fun.”

“What’s wrong with that? I’d like that.”

Kuzuryuu pretended not to listen. This was almost more painful than listening to Souda talk. He wondered if any of these guys had ever met a girl in their life.

He zoned out, palm sliding up his face as he stared out the window. They were a whole week into December and there wasn’t a single flake of snow on the ground – nothing got him in the mood for Christmas like a sea of brown grass and dead trees, and not even the sickening artificial cinnamon scent being pumped into the library was going to change his mind.

“Here, the next section’s ready. I’ll put it over here,” said the first of his groupmates, a scrawny, scruffy-haired boy with voice that jumped around too much when he spoke, and who reacted like Kuzuryuu was going to shank him every time he so much as shifted in his chair. He introduced himself as the Ultimate Painter, and definitely looked the part. He reached across him to slide the poster over to himself, and another hand reached out to hold it in place. 

“No, the next section should go here. It looks bad over there.” 

Kuzuryuu looked up at the annoying boy sitting directly across from him. He was a smug-faced, pretty-eyed bastard whose eyes were the same shade of golden yellow as his. Touma Sakamoto, better known as the Ultimate Marksman, was in the top 10% of the class and hadn’t hesitated to let them all know about it when they first met. He was the type who made his grades seem effortless, and had an air of charisma about him that was hard to ignore. Kuzuryuu knew the type, and kept his distance.

“What do you mean it looks bad over here? It’s off center over there. It throws the whole poster off balance,” the third boy chimed in, a stockier, athletic type whose grades were nothing to write home about. He fancied himself as the Ultimate Kayaker, and had the upper body to match. He was agreeable enough, but Kuzuryuu didn’t think he ever had any idea what he was talking about.

“What do you think, Kuzuryuu?” the marksman asked.

Kuzuryuu lifted his head up. “What?”

The pretty-faced boy pointed at the scrap of paper on the poster. Kuzuryuu’s eyes drifted to his hands. For someone whose talent was supposedly wielding a deadly weapon, his nails were too damn manicured. “It looks better over here, right?”

He was right, which was fine, because he didn’t have the energy to argue about it. “Yeah, sure.”

“Good,” Sakamoto said, his mouth curling into a satisfied smile. “We can move onto the next part, then.” 

Kuzuryuu sighed. This kid was a smug bastard, but if he’d carry these losers across the finish line with an “A”, he’d take it. 

The noise level in the library had faded into a dull roar. They finally seemed to be hitting their stride, but all it took was a particularly giggly group of girls walking past to raise the noise level and send his partners careening off topic again.

“Wish they’d put the party right before winter break instead of the middle of December. What’s that about?” the skittish boy said, his head on a swivel as he watched the group of students walk by. “All the girls I’ve talked to say they’re too busy studying for finals to hang out.”

This crap again. Kuzuryuu kept his head pointed towards his textbook and pretended to take notes.

“You have to talk to them  _ outside  _ of class, y’know. Get their mind off school,” the athletic one said. “I met that swimmer this fall during the sports festival, and we’ve been hanging out after school a lot more. It’s pretty serious. I’ve been even thinking about transferring to the swim club next year so we could see each other more.”

“A younger girl? Isn’t that weird?” the other boy asked.

“N-No! It isn’t! We’re only 7 months apart!”

“Pedophile…”

“Didn’t you just have a nasty breakup, Sakamoto?” the athlete said, switching their focus away from him. “Student council members are always expected to be there, since you’re the hosts, right? Who are you gonna find to ask out in a week? Everyone saw what that girl posted about you.”

Kuzuryuu, who’d been watching Sakamoto listen in with an amused grin, saw his expression quickly fade into a frown. As a member of the student council, Sakamoto’s antics were especially hard to keep from the public eye, especially when it involved a wrathful ex airing his dirty laundry online for all to see. 

“ _ She  _ was the crazy one, not me. C’mon,” he answered assuredly. “Enoshima had it coming for a long time. If you believe any of that stuff she put up about me, you’re crazy.”

The other boys’ faces said “uh huh”, and he brushed it off. In order to keep the image of the student council clean, the school had quickly had the posts scrubbed clean off the internet, but not before a large chunk of the student body had found out about it—all of them except, apparently, Kuzuryuu, who was hearing it for the first time. He wasn’t one to keep tabs on high school drama.

“A-Anyways,” Sakamoto cleared his throat. “I’ve already been seeing this new girl. I’ll be there. No worries.”

“Oh, really?” the artist said.

“Yeah. Obviously. Been meeting up with her at lunch every day since Enoshima sent me those texts. I think we definitely got a ‘thing’ going on.” He scanned his surroundings, and lowered his voice. “I’m planning to ask her soon. I’ve just gotta get things moving a little faster between us.”

“What’s her name? Do I know her?” the other boy asked.

“Ah, well… I haven’t gotten that far yet,” Sakamoto said, which drew a snort out of Kuzuryuu, but he continued. “Ah, Kuzuryuu, I think she’s in your class. Maybe you know her.”

He blinked. “She is?”

“Yeah. The kendoka.”

Kuzuryuu suddenly felt as though the breath had been sucked out of him. “W-Who?”

The… kendoka. No, it wasn’t her. That couldn’t be right. There were multiple people in the school who practiced kendo. False alarm.

“I think her name’s something like… Matayama?” he said.

Kuzuryuu’s mouth started to babble before his brain caught up. “Pek…-Pekoyama?”

_ Dumbass. _ He should have kept his mouth shut. Sakamoto bobbed his head back and forth, like he was tossing it around in his head. “Pekoyama, huh? That’s kind of a cute name.”

“Oh,  _ that _ girl? Really? She’s weird,” the athletic boy interrupted. “You know, there’s probably a reason why she doesn’t have a boyfriend yet. She’s  _ way  _ too good-looking to not be dating anyone. That’s a huge red flag.” He was lucky that Kuzuryuu was still too petrified to shoot him the glare he deserved.

“I mean yeah, sure, but she’s quiet. I think you just have to get to know her. I think she seems cool,” Sakamoto said. “If I can get her out of her shell, I think we’ve got the chemistry, you know. We’re pretty similar.”

_ You’re not similar at all, _ Kuzuryuu wanted to say. He felt a pang of guilt bubble up in his chest, like he’d been caught eavesdropping on a conversation he shouldn’t have been, and he couldn’t even say anything to defend her without looking suspicious. This sort of exchange wasn’t supposed to be happening right in front of him.

He reminded himself:  _ There’s nothing weird about this. _ These were perfectly normal high school boys, having a perfectly normal high school boy conversation. 

_ About Peko. _

No, there was nothing for him to worry about. Peko could handle herself. If she didn’t like him, he’d know it. She’d just say no if she wasn’t interested.

_ (But what if she was?) _

“You  _ are _ in her class, right, Kuzuryuu? You don’t know if she’s dating someone, do you?”

“Er…” He snapped his attention towards Sakamoto, finally breaking free of his trance. “No, I don’t. But I think you guys should worry about getting this fuckin’ project done before worrying about this stupid party.”

“Ha ha, since when were you worried about our grade?” the marksman teased. Kuzuryuu scoffed at him, but he continued. “Are  _ you  _ bringing anyone to the party?”

He was hoping they wouldn’t drag him into this. “No, I wasn’t going.”

The other two boys reacted like he’d just said something utterly outrageous. “What? You’re a 2nd year though, right?” 

“Yeah? So? What difference does it make?” Kuzuryuu said. “I won’t go this year, and I’m not going next year, either.”

They gawked at him like he was speaking in an alien language. He didn’t understand what was so hard to grasp about this concept to them. He didn’t do parties, and he especially didn’t do parties with a bunch of strangers.

“Anyways, I’ll see this girl again tomorrow, so I’ll keep you guys posted,” the other boy said, and flashed a beaming smile. “Wish me luck!”

Great. This was going to be a long couple weeks.

\---

Kuzuryuu found Pekoyama later that afternoon, well after their classes were finished for the day. It’d been weeks since she’d accompanied him on the short walk back to the dorms, and the last time it had been because he’d wanted to update her on some family affairs back home. This time, he was quiet, and she didn’t question his motives even if she wanted to ask. She trailed slightly behind him, just outside of his sphere.

The question about the annoying boy nagged at him from the back of his head. He hated to be the one to mention something about it first, but he wasn’t going to find out if he didn’t. When they were far enough down the path to be out of earshot, he allowed himself to slow down to let Pekoyama to catch up to him, and his breath fogged in the brisk air as he hooked a finger to pull down his scarf.

“Peko,” he said discreetly. “Has there been anyone annoying you lately?”

She didn’t put much thought into it, keeping her eyes pointed forwards. “Not really.”

Of course not. He had to find a better way to phrase the question to her. “I mean… has there been anyone hanging around by you more than usual recently? Like, a new person who’s been sitting by you at lunch, maybe?”

She pondered it again, this time for a few seconds longer. “Oh, yes, I suppose. I’ve noticed Touma Sakamoto from Class 77-A has been sitting at my table during our lunch break since last week. Why do you ask?”

Dammit. Of course. Part of him had been hoping the slimy fucker had made the whole thing up.

_ Except he’s not a slimy fucker, _ he had to remind himself again _. _ This was a perfectly fine, straight-A student, a normal civilian, who was just trying to get someone to go to the Christmas party with him—and that person just happened to be Peko. His classmate. That’s all.

His mind began to fast-forward. Sakamoto would be fine for her, he thought. He’d be a model citizen, someone not born from the dregs of society, and she’d be his talented partner, who’d complement his skills, and go with him to the dance, and laugh with him, and—

“Is there something I should know about him?” She noticed his nose wrinkle up.

Kuzuryuu exhaled, forcing out another cloud of icy breath. “Well, he’s—” he started, before the words dried up on his tongue. “—He’s in my group project, is all.”

“I see.”

There was another long pause. She didn’t tell him more than she needed to if he didn’t ask. He didn’t want to press it, but it was killing him not to know.

“Has he said anything to you?”

“Yes.” She nodded somewhat. “He has been asking me a lot of questions. I have been careful not to divulge any sensitive information about the family.”

He frowned. “It’s not  _ that  _ I’m worried about, it’s—”

His conscience barked at him.  _ It’s none of your business. It’s none of your business. It’s none of your business.  _

He noticed she was looking at him out of the corner of her eye. He took a deep breath.

“I just… the Christmas party is coming up, don’t forget.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And I... I want you to do what feels right for you, okay?”

He left the next space blank, waiting for her to fill the empty air with a response or a question. Instead, she said nothing at all, only glancing at him quizzically, looking as though she was attempting to parse his meaning.

The cold air bit at his cheeks. He pulled his scarf up.

“N-Nevermind, okay? Pretend I didn’t say anything about it.”

There was a stutter to her step, but she nodded, and continued on. “...Understood.”

They reached the door to the dorm building and parted ways. When she looked back, his shoulders were hunched together as he waited alone for the elevator.

\---

Pekoyama suddenly became acutely aware of the presence of the annoying boy. She sensed his movement like a hawk watching its prey.

When she left class, he was in the hallway, and he turned the same way. When she studied in the library, he was just enough tables away, positioned in a way so he was sitting to face her like it was a coincidence. When they cleaned up at the end of the day, he was always in the same room, find a way to do the same task.

And—most notably—Sakamoto kept finding her in the dining hall like a heat-seeking missile. As soon as there was a close enough chair to her, he’d fill the void as soon as it became open. 

She kept her guard up – his skill involved handling a weapon, after all, just like hers. There had to have been a reason that the young master had brought him up to her, and she was going to figure out why. 

However, the boy was certainly not making it very easy for her.

“Seen any good movies lately?” Sakamoto asked her at the lunch table, spinning a chopstick between his fingers. Pekoyama watched his hands carefully.

She answered his questions, but only because they didn’t seem very relevant for someone who was trying to get information about the Kuzuryuu family. Perhaps he wasn’t any sort of assassin or spy, or perhaps he was just a particularly unskilled one. He sure did ask a  _ lot  _ of questions, however, to the point where it was getting exhausting.

“So, the Christmas party’s next Friday, you know,” he said, continuing to fidget with the chopstick. “Made any plans for it yet?”

She didn’t think anything of it, and answered earnestly. “I was planning to attend with my classmates.”

“Is that right?” His expression brightened. “Well, I don’t have anyone to go with either, you know.”

She tilted her forehead tilted towards him, thinking for a moment that maybe he misheard her. “I-I’m… going with my classmates.”

His eyes lingered on her longer than she was used to. She caught his gaze for a moment, then looked away.

“Heh, I mean… I’m just saying. You’d look better with a partner,” he said. “Someone like me.”

Oh. So that’s what this was about. 

The Christmas party was a popular dating event. She didn’t have a date. He didn’t have a date.

He was asking her on a date.

She twined her fingers together in front of her cheeks, a poor attempt to hide the embarrassed glow painted on her face. Sakamoto did nothing to hide his. 

“I-I’ll, um, have to think about it. I’m sorry,” she said.

This was a lot to take in. This high school business was tough to get used to, when she was accustomed to being so rigidly structured as to what she was doing and who she was allowed to talk to. She’d been invited to gatherings with her classmates in the past, but nothing like this before.

“You’ll think about it...?” he said, somewhat dejected. His voice quieted. “Well, that’s smart, I guess. I can respect that.”

Had she been expected to say “yes” right away? She wondered if she was messing up this whole script that all the other high schoolers seemed to know except her. He was staring at her again, pupils moving up and down like he was attempting to read her. There was a familiar type of warmth to his eyes that she couldn’t pinpoint, but she couldn’t help but keep her guard up around him. 

He chuckled and let his head bob down, like she’d just done something amusing. She didn’t really understand him. When he looked back up, he seemed to be expecting her to crack as well, but she was stone-faced as ever, her expression unchanged. A fleeting look of disappointment flashed across his face, and she felt responsible for it.

One corner of her mouth curved upward awkwardly. It was forced, but it was better than nothing. She’d seen this smile practiced in the mirror before, and she always thought she looked like a maniac. However, Sakamoto’s grin grew wide, so apparently it had done its job. 

“Pekoyama,” he said softly. “You have a cute smile, you know.”

She couldn’t tell how genuine he was being, but the last few minutes of lunch, he peppered her with so many compliments and praises of her talent that she didn’t even know how to respond to most of them. This was all very new, and whether she liked it or not, she was a blushing mess—her cheeks betrayed her fairly easily. 

She soon remembered they were in a public place, and glanced around quickly to see if anyone in her class was nearby—luckily, there was no one around she recognized. She hadn’t determined yet if Sakamoto was someone she could trust, but perhaps... this wasn’t  _ so  _ bad. 

At the bell, he got up with his tray and bowed in her direction. She looked up at him, cheeks still warm, and wished him farewell.

“Anyways, I’ll see you tomorrow. Save me a spot, will you?” 

Maybe she would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, what could /possibly/ go wrong?


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True feelings get exposed.

Kuzuryuu noted that Sakamoto was late to the project session that day. It wasn’t like him, and his absence was definitely noticed. However, it had been a refreshing change for once, and the boys could finally work at their own pace for the short time it lasted. They were well ahead of schedule due to the rigorous pace he’d set, and as such, most of their time was spent goofing around.

When Sakamoto arrived, the other two boys angled their heads down as if they were hard at work on something, and Kuzuryuu knew he couldn’t possibly fall for that dumb act.

“Looks like you guys have been making a lot of progress. I hope you didn’t do _too_ much without me,” he said, completely oblivious. “I still need to look everything over.”

The group project had been proceeding as such since they started. Any attempt he made to try and participate was met with Sakamoto’s tweaks, or “ _well, but’s_ ”, and any time Kuzuryuu decided to just sit back and let him do the work instead, he was heckled for not participating enough. 

It felt like a huge waste of time. Perhaps if he put in a good word with the office, he could get reassigned to another project altogether, but they were so close to the finish line it wasn’t worth the effort. The chance he would get put in with another group that was just as annoying as this one was, unfortunately, quite high.

“How’s it been going with the new girl, Sakamoto?” the kayaker asked. 

Fuck. Kuzuryuu didn’t forget, but he was hoping they wouldn’t remind him.

“Oh, really good. I think I finally broke through the other day,” he said confidently. “I even got her to smile. She's gonna make a real cute date at the dance."

Kuzuryuu felt like he was going to be ill. He hunched over, trying to focus on the words on his page instead.

Through the tall windows, he could see the sun was already beginning to sink below the treeline. The year had been flying by so fast that the early sunset still managed to catch him by surprise sometimes. With the library illuminated by a dull pink glow, most of the other groups had begun packing up for the day, and Kuzuryuu began to put his items away as well.

“What are you doing?” Sakamoto said suddenly. “We’re not done with this part yet.”

“Uh, it’s almost 5pm,” Kuzuryuu answered.

“Yeah, but we’re not _done_. We could be packing up right now if you’d have completed your part the right way the first time. I just spent the last half-hour fixing it.”

Kuzuryuu let out an exaggerated sigh, opened his notebook back up, and muttered his response under his breath. “For fuck’s sake.”

“...Excuse me?”

“Nothin’,” he said. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

 _This_ was the guy that was interested in Peko? He was fucking exhausting. Kuzuryuu imagined him acting this way around her - he couldn’t decide if she’d just let him, or tell him (nicely) to get bent. She didn’t typically have the same level of patience around strangers, so he hoped it was the latter.

Sakamoto commanded his attention. “Come on now. We need all of us contributing equally if we’re going to get a decent grade, and if you’re just going to sit there and screw around, I’ll get you reassigned somewhere else.”

 _Some threat,_ he thought. “Yeah, yeah. I got it.”

“I think we’ll be okay. Let’s finish this last part and call it a night, yeah?” the boy to his left said.

“Sounds good,” Sakamoto said. “We’ll really need to pick up the pace tomorrow, so come prepared.”

Kuzuryuu had a response for Sakamoto readied at the tip of his tongue, but swallowed it back at the last second. His last hour was miserable enough without digging himself into a deeper hole, and all it would do was give Sakamoto another reason to heckle him.

By the time they’d been granted permission to leave, the library was a ghost town. Darkness poured in from the large windows, and their only illumination was provided by the cold artificial ceiling lights overhead. Sakamoto had given Kuzuryuu the “easy” assignment to take home, with a condescending reminder to “do it the right way this time”, and he couldn’t get back to his dorm fast enough to not do it. 

Winter break couldn’t come soon enough.

\---

“—And lastly, a reminder that the Christmas party is going to be here in 4 days! Do not forget!” Miss Yukizome addressed the class, her hands held out in dramatic display. “If you have not purchased your assigned item or outfit, consider sending your butt to the store ASAP!”

No one needed the reminder. On the other side of the room, Kuzuryuu could see Mioda revving in her chair, who’d been counting down the days since the school year began, and Owari drooling onto her desk at the thought of enough fried chicken to feed an army. Their classroom had already been laid out with extravagant decorations a few weeks ago, with paper snowflakes and tinsel hanging from every nook and cranny.

“...And,” Miss Yukizome continued, “If you happen to have—gasp!—a _significant other_ of sorts, don’t forget their gift, either, unless you wish to be haunted by the Ghost of Failed Relationships Past! If you do NOT have someone to go with, or are going with friends, then just forget I said anything!”

The noise level in the classroom started to pick up as his classmates began chatting to each other across their desks. Kuzuryuu wished he could just turn around and ask Pekoyama what she was thinking about. He assumed Sakamoto must have already been talking to her as he’d mentioned in the library -- it had been almost a week, after all. Had he already asked her out? What did she say to him? 

He had to stop himself from running his fingers through his hair, because she tended to pick that up as a fairly obvious tell that he was anxious about something. Her desk sat behind his, so it wasn’t like she wouldn’t notice. He put his hands down and sighed, wishing he had better control over his emotions instead of constantly wearing them on his sleeve.

_Quit worrying about it._

He felt selfish. He didn’t know why this bothered him so much.

He didn’t remember being this bothered when his sister found her first boyfriend, when she came home one day spouting to him about how she’d found her destined true love. She was so enthralled about the fact that her new BF texted her every few minutes to check on her, how he brought her a new gift to school every day to impress her, and always came to her defense like prince charming whenever she started another middle school fight, usually on a daily basis. It was laughable in the next two weeks when they had broken up and she had vowed he was the worst man on earth, and their mother had to tell her it was an inappropriate use of their power to put out a hit on a middle schooler.

Maybe that was the difference. In that instance, he was hearing about the relationship from Natsumi’s point of view. Even though it was short-lived, and it was corny as hell, he could see that his sister was genuinely happy in that instance. In this case, he was hearing about the relationship from the side of some stranger, with no input from Peko whatsoever. He just couldn’t picture her enthralled with some rando like his sister was. It felt so “off” to him, but perhaps he wasn’t being shown all sides of it either. It didn't concern him, so Peko didn't need to tell him. She would assume he didn't care.

He didn't know how they'd gotten to this point. He picked at the cuff of his dress shirt, and Miss Yukizome’s monologuing finally snapped him out of his thoughts.

“I remember when I was your age… attending my first Hope’s Peak Christmas Party, just like it was yesterday!” She talked like an old lady, despite being only a few years older than them. “This truly is the springtime of your youth! Get out there and make some memories!”

She dismissed the class. As everyone stood up from their desks, Kuzuryuu turned towards Pekoyama, and she nodded at him in acknowledgement, as she often did when his eyes accidentally drifted her way at school. But before he could open his mouth to say anything, he was interrupted by an extra-caffeinated Mioda bouncing across the room.

“Peko-Peko-chan!” she exclaimed, sliding across a chair and stopping right in front of her. “Only four more sleeps until the Christmas party! Are you pumped yet?”

She tilted her head towards her. “I think so.”

He decided to leave her alone. She didn’t owe him any part of her story, and it wasn’t his right to ask.

\---

Sakamoto sat beside her at lunch, again. 

Her early conversations with him had been stilted, at best, but it was slowly getting easier as the days went on. She found that she could enter a rhythm by asking him about his Ultimate talent—he had no qualms about talking about himself, and she liked to listen. There were quite a few “combat”-type Ultimate students in the academy that she found quite intriguing, with their various fighting styles and techniques and approaches to different situations. Not just that, but she liked to know their skill level in case she ever needed to come face-to-face with them… not that she tried to anticipate it, at least.

In turn, Sakamoto got a lesson in the art of Kendo, and how it translated into fighting with live steel. He seemed especially fascinated by this, as he admitted he didn’t think she actually fought “for real” and considered Kendo just another combat sport. He picked up another chopstick and pretended to fight her with it, which she respectfully declined.

He laughed. “You seem to take your talent pretty seriously,” he said.

“I do,” she said, and rolling on with the topic, she continued, “Have you ever shot anyone?” 

She regretted the question as soon as it came out, because he looked at her like she’d just sprouted horns. 

“What? Of course not,” he said. “Targets at the range only. I learned from my dad in the police. Not many people get to touch those things, so you could say I’m pretty special.”

That was less than ideal. Her past interactions involving the police were usually not positive, due to her upbringing, but she buried the thought.

“Sorry,” she said after a brief pause to catch her thoughts. “...I-I only thought—”

“No worries, I get asked that all the time.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Anyways, me and you have a lot in common, though. I can always respect an Ultimate talent that actually takes skill.”

“Oh?” She sat up straighter.

He must have been expecting her to agree, but there was a saccharine glaze to his tone that made her uneasy. With the diverse range of backgrounds and talents at the academy, there were certainly a few clashing opinions that came up from time to time. It wasn’t spoken of often, but within certain factions at Hope’s Peak, there was the sentiment that there were certain “A-tier” talents, i.e. talents that took years of practice and natural skill to perfect, and then there was the “B-tier” talents, those that people were born into or attained by pure luck—sometimes literally. 

Anyone who’d seen someone like the princess or the yakuza in action couldn’t possibly say their talents didn’t take skill. She didn’t like where this was headed, and she intended to make him clarify. 

“As opposed to…?”

“Ha ha. You know what I mean,” he said.

“I don’t.”

His smile faded. Her response appeared to catch him off guard, but he recovered just as fast, showing off his pointed canines. 

“You know, if my dad he knew who this school assigned me with for my final grade, he’d go ballistic,” he said to her. “The people in this city pay a lot of taxes to fund this place, and now they’re inviting nonsense like fortune tellers and actual gang members. Don’t you think that’s crazy?”

She didn’t waver. “I believe everyone at this school has a reason to be here.” 

“You think?” He leaned forward, and her gaze locked with his. “Those types of students should have been shoveled into the Reserve Course with the rest of them, instead of making people like you and me look like a joke. We worked hard to get our invitations here.”

“So did they.” 

He appeared to be amused at her sentiment. Unlike most, he didn’t flinch away at her threatening glare, but seemed to treat it like a challenge. 

His eyes narrowed. Before he could say anything else, the lunch bell rang, and with it came a sense of relief. He stood up and leaned against the table, and she pointed her chin up at him.

“You’re pretty feisty, you know that?” he laughed. “Didn’t expect that. Maybe we’ll change that.”

She bristled at his comment. Suddenly, his bright smile didn’t feel all that warm anymore.

He hovered there with his tray for a few moments, appearing to be waiting for her to go with him, and she anchored herself to her seat in hopes he'd just give up and leave. Finally, after waiting a few ticks too long, he did.

“Anyways, see you,” he said, waving a half-hearted goodbye. “Save me a spot again tomorrow.”

Maybe she wouldn’t.

\---

He’d find her in the common area instead.

She didn’t know how Sakamoto had found her. She’d intentionally picked a different study location outside of the library to throw him off. In fact, due to the extra noise in the common area, she wasn’t even aware of his presence until he was standing over her shoulder. 

“Hi, Peko.”

Hearing her first name come out of his mouth made her recoil. There was an intentional lean into her space, his head so close to hers that she could feel the body heat radiating from his skin. He defensive instinct had kicked in. She forced herself to remain still, but there was a panicked fluttering sensation inside her chest as if her heart was trying to escape.

She didn’t respond. She was frozen in place, afraid to make the wrong move in a crowded space. 

“What are you working on?” His head was inches from her ear. The uncomfortable distance put a pang of nausea in her stomach. “Need some help?” 

Her mind scrambled to find any explanation for what he was doing. Maybe this was just how things were when it came to high school relationships. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He wasn’t touching her. _This was fine,_ she told herself. This was normal. 

_Right?_

“I’m alright,” she answered politely, but he didn’t leave.

The sensation of someone behind her back that she couldn’t see was sending all her panic alarms into a frenzy. She couldn’t focus. He was there. Her breaths were shallow, afraid she’d bump into him by mistake. 

She forced herself to turn, so she could just barely see him from the corner of her eye. “Yes?” It came out more rudely than she intended, and she regretted it immediately.

He chuckled, then leaned back up. “Heh, nothin’. Just thought I’d check on you. See you at lunch.”

He left, and she let out the breath of air she’d been holding high up in her chest.

\---

Pekoyama prayed the empty seat near her would fill that next day. 

She couldn’t afford to skip out on lunch, as she needed the energy for her kendo practice later, and she didn’t have anything to bring from her dorm that she could take somewhere else to eat. She tried moving to a hidden corner of the dining hall to throw him off, but right on cue, he found her again. 

She wished she would have just stayed back in the dorms and studied instead. The sound of his voice, previously charming, had an especially grating quality to it today.

“Hey, Peko-chan. How’s it going?”

She stopped eating, and set her utensil down next to her tray. “It’s Pekoyama.”

“Oh, that’s cold. I thought we were on a first name basis,” he said, a bit taken aback. “It’s good to see you today, _Miss Pekoyama.”_

Her lips tightened into a thin line. This was patronizing. She answered him with silence.

Sakamoto was unphased, starting the conversation like nothing was different, though "conversation" was a generous word to describe their exchange. When he wasn’t talking about himself, his questions were even more exhausting than usual.

“So, what are you doing after class today?” he asked.

“Kendo practice.”

“What do you like to do after kendo practice?”

“Nothing.”

Somehow, these one- or two-word answers weren’t affecting him. She wasn’t sure if it was intentional or he was particularly dense, but this type of interaction would normally end in someone losing interest. Instead, it was all a game to him, like he didn’t take her seriously at all.

She dreaded the next question, but knew it was coming.

“So,” he began casually, inspecting his nails. “The party’s tomorrow. Have you had enough time to think about taking me up on that date offer?”

She did, but she was half-hoping he’d forget about it and not bring it up again. She had to answer him. “I think so.”

“And…?”

She knew. She’d just have to disappear and never see him again, and then she wouldn’t have to tell him no.

“I… think I’d prefer to go with my friends.”

“Really? Are you _sure_ about that?” He looked unconvinced, and leaned forward, dipping his head to the side. “If you don’t decide now, who else do you think is gonna ever ask you out?”

Her jaw tightened. “What?”

An unfamiliar heavy sensation formed within her chest. Behind her steel facade, she couldn’t tell if she was making it obvious to him or not, but she could feel the cracks forming within her chest, and her lungs felt tight. His words stung. And as always, he reacted as he normally did—with a sugary attitude and a pompous grin.

She thought relationships were supposed to feel better than this. This was all another game to him, and his smile made her ill.

“Excuse me,” she said, taking her unfinished tray and standing up. “I have some work to get done.”

She didn’t know why she hesitated. He twitched, like he was about to follow, but settled back in his chair. 

“I’ll see you there tomorrow,” he said without pause.

She didn’t look back. She didn’t need to. But when she passed through the dining hall doors, she didn’t see the familiar face walking in the opposite direction through her fogged glasses.

\---

Kuzuryuu had a vague idea of Pekoyama’s schedule, and if he had any guesses to her whereabouts in the afternoon, the library was a solid answer. Luckily, this coincided with his own plans that day to put the finishing touches on his project, so he’d just need to get there early enough to see her. 

His gut had been right. He found her slouched over a textbook in the library, braids touching the table, avoiding all eye contact with the students who walked by. He’d need to be mindful in his approach as to not startle her.

“Hey, Pekoyama.”

His voice, though hushed, immediately caught her attention, and she snapped her head up at him.

“Kuzuryuu,” she greeted carefully. Her expression softened upon seeing who it was. They weren’t quite in private, so they’d still need to be careful, but it was good enough. Kuzuryuu stood on the opposite side of the table with his hands on the back of the chair.

“You can keep doing what you’re doin’. I’m just stopping by for a second.” He positioned his feet wide apart, an attempt to look casual.

“Is something the matter?” she asked quietly. “You have been on edge this week.”

Of course she noticed. He was never good at hiding it. Right now though, that didn’t matter. “Don’t worry about me. I came to ask you the same thing.”

Her mouth twisted into an irregular shape. She inhaled. “...Why?”

“Somethin’s up with you today, that’s why,” he said. He adjusted his footing, bending slightly forward. “I saw you rush out of the dining hall earlier. You were mad. Something's wrong."

He could see her adjust her shoulders. She broke eye contact, focusing instead on the space behind him. “I’m sorry to have worried you. It was nothing.”

“Peko… er, Pekoyama,” he corrected himself, to be safe. “I can tell when somethin’s not right.”

Her grip on her pencil tightened.

“Hey. Did something happen?”

There was a momentary pause, and her eyes drifted to another point behind him. “Forgive me. Can you stay like that for a moment?”

“Huh?”

Something had flipped a switch in her. She was on high alert, back stiffened, looking directly at him. He swivelled his head around, attempting to find what she was reacting to, and found—

—Touma Sakamoto, glaring daggers at him from the other side of the library.

He immediately got the message.

He found Pekoyama’s strained expression again, and mouthed _“him?”_. She nodded.

Sakamoto didn’t approach, but maintained his eye contact with Kuzuryuu far longer than he had any business doing. Kuzuryuu spun back around, keeping one eye on Pekoyama as she feigned indifference. He watched his two group mates walk in shortly after, and thankfully, they managed to steal Sakamoto’s attention away for just long enough.

There was a heavy atmosphere while they waited for them to settle. Once Kuzuryuu saw them come to a rest at their usual table, Pekoyama began organizing her items back into neat stacks. “I should be going.”

“H-Hey, wait a—”

“Kuzuryuu,” she said, in her best normal conversational tone. “You said he was in your group project?”

“...Yes?”

She looked back down at her books. “I wish you good luck on your final grade.”

It was a little too formal, but there was a hint behind it—a reminder of _don’t do anything rash—_ that he’d need to keep in mind. He didn’t know what had transpired between the two of them, but the details didn’t matter. Pekoyama was upset about something, and he was going to find out what that rat bastard did to her.

Kuzuryuu slowly meandered over to the other side of the library, just long enough to make sure she was out the door. As he approached, the painter and the kayaker greeted him cordially, but the marksman wasted no time.

“Hey, can I ask you somethin’?” Sakamoto said almost immediately as Kuzuryuu set his bag down.

Kuzuryuu didn’t answer. He pulled his chair back and sank into his seat.

“Hey, I’m talking to you. Can I ask what you were you doing talking to that girl over there?”

The corners of Kuzuryuu’s mouth were pulled into a tight frown. He’d need to stay calm to keep up appearances, but this was setting up to get him real heated, real fast.

“She’s my classmate. It’s none of your business.”

“It is my business. She’s my date tomorrow. _You_ got business with her?” he said with a heavy scowl, though there was a jumpiness to his tone. “If not, then leave her alone.”

Kuzuryuu emptied out the contents of his backpack, and let his books fall on the table a little too hard. “She’s my friend. She can talk to me if she wants.”

“Oh, she’s your _friend_ now? Fuck off.” The other two boys, caught in the crossfire, raised their eyebrows at one another. “You’re just over there trying to get fancy with her because you found out she was single. She already told me yes.”

Peko… said yes to him? No, there was no way that was true—not the way she was acting around him. Kuzuryuu could pick out a bluff when he saw one, and he was going to call him out on it.

“She didn’t say 'yes' to you,” he said simply.

Sakamoto blinked. “What did you say...?”

“I said she didn’t say ‘yes’ to you, you deaf bastard,” he repeated, planting his elbows up on the table. Sakamoto jolted like he’d just been punched in the nose.

“Can’t find your own date so you’ve got to steal mine?” His long nails scraped against the edge of the desk. “Figures a scumbag gangster like you would pull such a stunt.”

“I’m not going. I don’t need a date. I just want you to admit to everyone here that she didn’t say yes to you.”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine!” the athletic boy said, with a faux sense of optimism. “Let’s work on getting this last part finished, eh?”

“What’s it to you?” Sakamoto flashed his teeth, ignoring the other boy. “No one would ever ask out a _yakuza_. They’re all afraid you’d dump them in a ditch somewhere or ship them overseas. Tell us, Kuzuryuu, did any girls ask you to the Christmas party this year? Or did they go running for the hills after you introduced yourself?”

“A-Ah, Sakamoto, it’s okay,” the painter interrupted. “Let’s leave this one be. He’s still, um, a _Kuzuryuu_ , after all.”

He was not going to let them weaponize his family name. How dare they.

“Doesn’t matter. I wasn’t going,” Kuzuryuu said again.

“Figures. That’s too bad,” he said, his voice like ice. “Guess you’ll be the only virgin here after Christmas this year.”

Kuzuryuu clutched his pencil so hard it nearly snapped in two. He growled through gritted teeth. “That’s _not_ what this is about.”

“Oh yeah? Oh, I forgot, you can just call up daddy’s whorehouse anytime you want.”

Kuzuryuu slammed his textbook shut and shoved it across the table at full force, sending papers flying and causing every eye in the library to turn in their direction at once. The two boys on each side of them shot back so fast they nearly tipped over, frozen in wide-eyed shock. Sakamoto clutched the projectile in his arms, gawking at Kuzuryuu for a moment, before regaining his cool just as fast as it left him. 

“It was a joke, asshole. Chill out.” 

The world seemed to stop as his breath came back to him. Kuzuryuu’s entire body shook with unrestrained energy. From the corners of the library, he began to hear murmurs as the students began to react to what had just happened.

 _“Oh,_ that _kid? Figures.”_

Of _course_ the Ultimate Yakuza had just lost his cool. He was a liability. Now Sakamoto, the golden child, was going to get the victim treatment from everyone who saw what had just transpired.

He watched one of the portly library staff pick himself up from his desk on the other side of the room to rush over to their table. Kuzuryuu’s face turned a dark shade of pink, a mixture of anger and embarrassment. He was _not_ about to stick around to get suspended for this. With a sharp turn of his heel, he left the others at the table without saying a word, and dashed out the nearest exit as fast as he could. The library doors slammed shut behind him.

He needed to find Peko, and fast.

\---

When he exited the building, Pekoyama was standing watch at the door to the courtyard. Kuzuryuu hadn’t expected her to wait for him, as he hadn’t asked her to, but she greeted him as soon as he walked outside, and began following him down the path. He wasn't heading anywhere in particular, just wherever the sidewalk decided to take them.

Kuzuryuu was certain he looked frazzled, his tie crooked from running, and there was no way she didn’t notice. He waited for her to say something about it, but when she did, it wasn't what he expected.

“How has your group project been going?” she asked. She was clearly trying to be sneaky about it, but he knew what question she was really trying to ask. 

“Ha, well. It’s going." He tucked his hands into his pockets. “Could be better.”

There were a few seconds of silence between them.

“I talked to that Sakamoto kid, anyway.”

“...You did?” she said, louder than he could tell she wanted. She lowered her voice, not because there was anyone nearby, but out of habit. They were discussing sensitive information. “What did he say to you?”

“He’s real fuckin’ annoying, that’s what.” He looked up to see how she’d react. Pekoyama didn’t fully smile, but he could tell there was something there behind her expression. She was quiet, letting his words soak in.

“Thank you… for earlier,” she said suddenly. She pulled a strand of hair behind her ear, and he noticed her cheeks were pink from waiting in the cold. “It was selfish of me to ask you to do that.”

“Do what? Stand there? Don’t be sorry for that,” he said. “I’d do that for you anytime. Don’t be afraid to say somethin’.”

Her arms were tucked around her chest to keep warm. “I appreciate it.”

“What was the deal with that guy, anyways?” Kuzuryuu asked. “What happened? Was he… were you guys... um…” 

The word he was looking for was “dating”, but it didn’t feel like the right thing to say. Luckily, she filled in the answer for him.

“He asked me to the Christmas party as his date,” she answered plainly. “And at first, he seemed okay, but…”

She didn’t open up to him like this often, so he found himself pressing for more. "...Yeah?"

“Perhaps I was careless by allowing myself to express myself around him. I let my guard down,” she told him. “All of a sudden, he became quite unreasonable. When I told him I would prefer to attend the party with my friends instead, he did not seem to accept this answer.”

She bit her lip. There was more to it. He leaned in, letting her finish.

“It was the way he said it, when he met me at lunch today,” she said, voice low. Her eyes pointed towards the ground. “He implied that I didn’t have a choice, and I wouldn’t find anyone else. I don’t know why it affected me the way it did. I left after that.”

This lined up perfectly with Sakamoto’s reaction to him in the library. He was a control freak, and Peko was the one bearing the brunt of it. The thought of him acting that way towards her sent a bolt of rage through him. Kuzuryuu swallowed the lump in his throat. 

“I am sorry if this has been distracting to you. I will be more careful moving forward,” she said.

“Well, _fuck_ him, that’s what,” Kuzuryuu snapped. “He didn’t act that way because you were ‘careless’, it sounds like he was an asshole all along who was showing his true colors. Fucking hell, who _says_ something like that? Anyone would react the same way you did.”

She seemed to understand. Her body relaxed, like the clamps had been removed from her shoulders.

“I see, however... I believe he is still expecting me to attend with him tomorrow,” she told him. “He will be looking for me. What should I do?”

Kuzuryuu kicked a rock at his feet. “Well, you could surprise him by not showing up at all.”

He thought this was a valid enough answer, but she didn’t react as positively as he expected. There was a long pause.

“Mioda has been telling me all month that she was excited to see me there. Nanami helped with some of the party planning for our class as well. I was hoping to at least see some of it.” She mirrored Kuzuryuu, whether it was intentional or not, looking down at her feet and jostling some pebbles in her path. “I am told the decorations will be beautiful this year.”

He nodded inwardly. “You’re right. I guess we’ve never been to something like this before. At least, not with people our own age, I mean.”

“I had been looking forward to it, but now…” She made a slight grimace.

“He’ll be there,” he finished for her. “And that’s gonna ruin it.”

She exhaled through her nose. “If I don’t go, there’s no way I can avoid him for the rest of the year. I am sure he’ll continue to pursue me if I am not there.”

Kuzuryuu’s gears were turning. There had to be a solution, something that would make this right.

One idea materialized. It was a longshot, but it wouldn’t hurt to say it.

“Well, what if… you showed up with someone else?”

She angled her head towards him subtly, brows pinched together. “...What do you mean?”

He looked up at her to answer, but his tongue jumbled the words. She waited for him, cheeks warm in the cold air. 

“I-I mean, just to get him off your back,” he said, with a sense of hesitation, “you could show up with another boy and maybe he’d get the picture. That worked just now in the library. When he saw me at your table -- when you asked me to stay there -- he completely backed off. Think about it.”

Her brow pinched together even harder. “Who would I go with?”

“Peko.” He was treading water. He stopped in mid stride, turning directly to face her, and she paused as well. “Who do you think?”

He was holding his palms out at his sides. Her eyes studied him, and something clicked.

“You—Kuzuryuu… I-I…”

If the color on her cheeks wasn’t obvious before, it was now. He’d gotten his point across. He just wished he’d planned out his idea before opening his mouth, because now he was standing deep in the hole he’d just dug.

He began hedging himself. “I-I mean, don’t feel like you have to do it. I’m just throwing out ideas here.”

“But… I thought you didn’t want to attend,” she said, with a touch of unsurety. “You shouldn’t force yourself to. There will be a lot of people there.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I-It’s different if there’s someone there to go with. I’d do it.”

He noticed himself taking shallow breaths, unable to mask it with the temperature hovering just above freezing. Peko’s hand was placed against her lower lip, as though she was contemplating the logistics of it all. “I promised Mioda and Nanami that I would meet them tomorrow outside of the dorms to walk together. If you were to meet there as well to go with me, they would know there was something going on between us. I am not sure if you could risk it.”

“What about this…” he explained carefully. “I’ll just meet you at the party. We don’t have to do anything crazy. We can just show up, make sure Sakamoto sees us together, and you can forget about me and him for the rest of the night if you want to. He can think we’re, uh… a _“thing”_ … for as long as we’re at this school together, and he’ll get off your back for the rest of the year. He’ll be none the wiser. You’re a good actor, right?”

She seemed to be warming up to the idea. But the details were fuzzy, and he knew it. It’d be somewhat of a stretch to convince him they were dating, and there’d likely be more to it than just showing up in the same room together. They’d have to work out the details when they got there, based on how Sakamoto reacted, and that’s what made him nervous--he didn’t want to push it too far if they didn’t need to. 

“You think it would work?” she asked.

“I don’t know, but we can try,” he said, cupping his fist in his gloved hand. “If you want to do this, then I’m down for it. We’ll wing it. Just know that whatever you decide, I’ll be there, no matter what.”

They were plunging head-first into frigid water. There was no backing out of it now. The Christmas party was tomorrow, and he would need to bring his A-game if he wanted to save Peko from being harrassed by the biggest jackass in the school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it turns out after I bothered to google it that "Sakamoto" is also the name of the main character in an anime/manga series based off of the adventures of "the coolest person at school", and I promise you my Sakamoto was not based off that one whatsoever. My Sakamoto is just the worst. lol.
> 
> Christmas party....next?? (yes)
> 
> it's about to go down


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put on your best Christmas playlist ya'll it's party time!! This is the last chapter of our saga. Merry Christmas!

A coating of freezing rain on Friday made the walk to the main building as treacherous as it was miserable. Kuzuryuu had prepared for the cold, but he hadn’t prepared for the wet, and he could tell most of the other students hadn’t either. At least one mismatched couple, arms locked together like their lives depended on it, hit a bare patch of ice in front of him and fell hard on their backs, and though Kuzuryuu tried to pretend he didn’t see it, the corners of his mouth still twitched upwards.

Large banners had been strung across all of the entrances welcoming attendees to the Christmas party, and blast of warm air hit him when he stepped through the front doors. He was met with the strange, echoey atmosphere of the school building after dark, like he’d just stepped through a portal into a slightly different dimension. Smatterings of students were gathered in small groups here and there, growing denser as he walked further down the hall. Up towards the commons area, he could hear the sounds of muffled voices and Christmas music in the distance.

A teacher was manning a coat check station nearby. Most of the students he passed were wearing some kind of festive garb, whether it was sweaters, formal wear, or full-on santa suits. Kuzuryuu himself wasn’t “festive”, per se, but he’d made a point to look decent. It’d been a long time since he’d worn his three-piece suit, though he was beginning to wish he’d worn something less stuffy. At the very least, he’d managed to track down a ruby red pocket square to stick in his getup, so no one could call him a total grinch.

Right as he dropped off his jacket, he witnessed an especially minimally-clad student getting lectured by the head of security, making a chopping motion at his mid-thigh like a referee signalling a penalty, assuming he was demonstrating what he considered to be an appropriate skirt length. To Kuzuryuu, the thought of the girl walking to the school building like that to begin with—in the freezing rain, no less—made him shudder.

The smell of roasted meats caught his nose as he approached. He’d nearly forgotten about the food aspect of it, and the only thing he’d eaten was a light lunch that day. His stomach, however, didn’t hesitate to remind him how hungry he was, but those thoughts would have to be pushed aside until later. A voice that he recognized called out to him as he walked up to the entrance.

“Yoo-hoo! If it isn’t the man himself, Kuzuryuu Fuyuhiko!” 

He spun to his left, and nearly topped over—Hanamura was sashaying over to him in a jingly little santa outfit that showed even more skin than the girl he’d just passed in the hallway. 

“I was wondering when you’d appear! You were the last of our class that I’ve seen,” he said, buttery as ever. “Are you just arriving? Have you had a chance yet to indulge yourself in some of the tantalizing smells, tastes.... and _sights?”_

“No, but where did you… where’d you get…” Hanamura, with his hands on his hips, was jingling back and forth as Kuzuryuu attempted to spit something out. It was usually best not to question such things. “N-Nevermind. But—”

“Well, I insist. If you so desire, and I’ll let you in on a little secret... my table of delights is the one hidden in the far back corner. _My_ creations are a cut above the rest, you’ll see.” He pinched his fingers together in a hand signal that Kuzuryuu was sure he’d just made up. Hanamura was only one of several food-related talents at Hope’s Peak, which included titles such as the Ultimate Baker, Ultimate Confectioner, Ultimate Barista, and so on, and each of them had created a display for the party that night. His mouth watered at the thought, and even if Hanamura did look like Santa’s naughtiest little helper tonight, he couldn’t deny that he was talented.

“Y-Yeah, I’ll check it out,” he said. “But hey, can you tell me where—”

“But I must beg of you… whatever you do tonight, you MUSTN’T tell Owari the location of my table before 8 o’clock. Swear it!” He snatched Kuzuryuu by the collar and shook him back and forth. “She’s been on the hunt for my hors d'oeuvres all night, because she _knows_ they are to die for! The judges will be passing by within the hour, and if my perfectly plated portions of mini smoked salmon and dill toasts are completely gone, I’ll—”

“—I got it! Fuck! Okay! Let go of me, you asshole!” His stubby fingers released him at once. Kuzuryuu took a moment to fix his collar. “Anyway, you said everyone from our class was here already? Like _everyone_ everyone?”

“Of course. Do any of them tickle your fancy? Perhaps… ”

Hanamura was jingling again. Kuzuryuu’s mouth readied a name, and his lips came together for the consonant sound that came to him first, but quick thinking changed his answer. “M-Mioda?”

“Ohohh. I see how it is,” he pouted. “Anyways, Mioda was just at the music station pestering the DJ to play a black metal rendition of ‘Silent Night’. As you can see, however, she hasn’t been successful.” A light orchestral holiday arrangement was playing in the background.

This was a good start. If he could find any of the other girls in his class, especially Mioda or Nanami, then Pekoyama wouldn’t be far. 

“Thanks, Hanamura,” he said. “Oh, and uh, watch out behind you.”

Kuzuryuu hightailed it right as the head of security came charging over to call a personal foul on the chef’s choice of wardrobe. It was clear that the school staff had their work cut out for them that night. 

The entrance to the commons area was blocked off with a bottleneck of students all trying to get in at once and not making much progress at all. After a few minutes of watching the line sit at a dead stop, he decided on the “fuck it” approach, and wedged himself in between the wall of bodies. It wasn’t easy to force himself through a crowd at his height, but once he’d elbowed through enough people, he emerged on the other side—

—and finally understood why people got excited for the Christmas party.

The commons area had been transformed into what looked like a glittering ice palace. Every inch of the room were decorated with twinkling white and blue fairy lights, strung together and shimmering like a light show against a night sky. In each of the corners, massive ice sculptures were lit up on display, surrounded by throngs of students admiring their craft, most likely made by an Ultimate student with some obscure talent that he wasn't familiar with. Crisp dangling lights hung from the ceiling like icicles around a crystal chandelier, and a massive tree in the center of it all stretched so tall it nearly touched the vaulted ceiling, completing the impression that he’d just entered a winter fantasy.

A deep, buried part of him resurfaced for a moment, shooting him back to a white Christmas morning in his youth. He and Natsumi had made competing snow forts, and Peko—as always—had joined his side despite Natsumi’s protests. She helped make him a massive pile of snowballs to give them the edge in their turf war, and every time his sister so much as showed her face, she was pelted with an unstoppable barrage of artillery, so much that she eventually complained loud enough that his parents made them all come back inside. Little sisters were like that sometimes.

Later that same night, he and Peko would sneak out and hide in their igloo when they were supposed to be in bed, far away from the voices that told them what they could or couldn’t do.

...This was silly. He remembered his mission, and straightened out his tie.

Kuzuryuu maneuvered through the party, keeping a close eye out for anyone he recognized, for better or for worse. The student council members, in particular, were easy to pick out—they were all decked out in matching white tuxedos for the boys or icy blue gowns for the girls, and he made a point to keep his distance. He hadn’t managed to spot Sakamoto yet, and he couldn’t decide if that was good or bad news.

He finally reached the music table. A thick horde of students were gathered around it, many of them tangled tightly together in pairs, swaying in turn to the music. From a tight window that appeared between a couple of them, he could just barely make out what he assumed to be the “horns” on Mioda’s head—she’d put little santa hats on both of them—and next to her was Nanami, less-than-sneakily playing something on her smartphone. He moved to step through the gap, and the space filled. Another sway of the crowd, and he caught a glimpse of the other person who was with them—standing beside her, back turned, was a lock of silver hair that seemed to almost reflect in the white lights above.

He pushed on, but was stopped again when another male student nearly double his size backed into him. Kuzuryuu mouthed a few obscenities that were drowned out by the sound of the crowd. Another attempt to break through, and he was surrounded, but this time a window had formed between the shoulders of the two larger students on both sides of him. The girls were right ahead.

Mioda was belly laughing about something, Nanami had looked up from her game, eyes bright, and Pekoyama was—well, she was smiling. 

It was small, but it was enough to light up her whole face. He noticed her braids had been undone, hair falling against her back in long waves. Her glasses were missing, assuming by choice, something he hadn’t seen her do in… well, he couldn’t remember the last time she'd done so. She didn't dress up—she’d come in an older school uniform—but it didn’t matter. She looked positively radiant.

And, best of all—Sakamoto was nowhere to be found.

He considered approaching her, just to tell her he was there, but decided against it. Peko was here having fun with her friends, and he wasn’t about to remind her why he came. It was the first genuine smile he’d seen from her in ages. He felt thankful that their classmates, as weird and loud and obnoxious as most of them were, were so good to them after all this time. 

Kuzuryuu decided it wouldn’t be bad to stick around and find some of his other classmates—after all, he’d already made a point to dress up and walk over in freezing rain, so he might as well try to enjoy himself too. His stomach reminded him just how hungry he was, and Hanamura’s table was starting to sound like a solid stop on the way. He just prayed the chef would be wearing a few more layers if they happened to cross paths again.

More and more students piled into the commons area as the evening went on. The way back through the crowd wasn't much easier, but it was at least navigable. Right as he emerged on the other side, he rapidly doubled back, as a cluster of student council members had gathered on the other side. Their white tuxedos stuck out like a beacon in the darkened space. Each one had girls hanging off them like arm candy, hair pinned up and makeup perfect, to the point of looking like they all belonged more on the set of a reality TV show than a high school dance.

Just then, his eyes caught a familiar pretty face, and his hackles raised.

Sakamoto stood slightly offset from the rest of his posse, noticeably date-free, and acting even more ferrety than usual. He appeared to be feigning enjoyment whenever the others in his group glanced his way, but when they weren’t paying attention, his head whipped back and forth across the room, scanning the crowd for the girl who was supposed to meet him there.

Pekoyama.

It didn’t take him to connect the dots on why Sakamoto had been so interested in her—Pekoyama must have been his best free-market option on short notice. He needed a pretty girl to show off to his clique, and Peko was... well. He wasn’t going to deny it.

Kuzuryuu realized she’d been smart to alter her appearance just enough—she’d be harder to recognize that way. Wrapped up in his thoughts, his mind lingered on Pekoyama a few seconds too long, and the wall of students in front of him parted before he realized it. A clear line of sight had formed between him and the marksman. Stumbling backwards, he attempted to blend back into the crowd, but the amber eyes of Sakamoto passed over once again and came to a stop right on him.

Fuck.

Sakamoto cordially excused himself from the group—they barely noticed—and made a beeline straight towards him. The second he was out of their sight, his expression hardened, and Kuzuryuu pretended to admire the chandelier. The marksman shouldered past the poor soul who stood in his way and squared himself up with Kuzuryuu to force his attention whether he liked it or not.

“Hey, you aren’t supposed to be here. You should have been suspended after you _attacked_ me in the library and ran away, you coward,” he hissed. “Come here to finish the job? Get lost before I call for security.”

“I’m a student here too, jackass. I’m allowed to be here. I’m not breaking any rules.” Kuzuryuu prodded for an exit, but didn’t find one. He was cornered. 

“You will be if I say you are,” Sakamoto said, crowding him further. “They’ll take my word over yours any day.”

“Bullshit. You won’t do anything."

He snorted. “Wanna find out?”

Right at that moment, he seized Kuzuryuu above his wrist, gripping his arm so intensely he swore he’d tear the fabric on his blazer. He tried to yank himself free, but Sakamoto’s grip was like iron. The oblivious crowd corralled them in on all sides.

“L-Like I’m the one causing trouble?! Let go of me!”

“You’re not running away this time!” Sakamoto wrenched Kuzuryuu’s arm up, causing him to wince. “I can still get you suspended. There’s a lot of skirts here. All we need to do is put this hand of yours somewhere it doesn’t belong, and—”

His other hand was free. All he needed was a quick jab, a sucker punch, and he’d lay this dude out before he could blink. He clenched his fist, readied his arm, and—

—was stopped by a firm hand around his elbow.

Kuzuryuu whirled around, ready to unleash fury on whoever had interrupted him, and immediately thawed at the sight of silvery locks.

“Pek...Pekoyama?”

He didn’t know how she’d slipped through the crowd so fast without him noticing. The other two girls she had come with with were nowhere to be seen. She tugged at him gently to pull him away from Sakamoto, and the marksman immediately released his grip.

“What is going on here?” she asked. 

“P-Pekoyama! There you are!” Sakamoto abruptly changed his tune, shoving his hands into his pockets like he’d done nothing wrong. “I’ve been looking for you all night! How about you?”

“I haven’t.”

The room was dimly lit, but Kuzuryuu could swear he saw some of the color drain out of Sakamoto’s cheeks. The boy’s eyes dropped to Pekoyama’s hands, still wrapped around his elbow. “H-Hey, c’mon. Let’s hurry up and go. Security’s out here looking for this guy, he’s—”

“He’s my classmate. He came to meet me here. Is there a problem?” 

“Y-Yeah, I mean… you were supposed to be… _He’s_ not supposed to be...” he floundered. “Pekoyama, you’re joking, right? You guys aren’t _really_ —”

“I’m not supposed to be what...? Here with—” Kuzuryuu blurted out his reply before thinking it through. As soon as it left his mouth, it didn’t sound as cool as he’d imagined, and he fumbled the delivery. “...Her?”

He fucked it up. He fucked this up already. Sakamoto readied a response, but another partygoer bumped into Kuzuryuu and caused him to lurch forward. Sakamoto put his arms up, bracing for the yakuza to run into him, but before Kuzuryuu could manage to stop himself, Pekoyama hooked her hands above his waist and pulled him towards her, his back flush against her chest.

Oh. She _was_ a good actor.

He was lucky the icy blue tint of the room was so strong, because he was red from his neck to his hairline. 

It happened so fast he barely had time to process it. Kuzuryuu was certain his reaction didn’t look even close to natural, but he was thankful that Sakamoto was so completely tone-deaf that he probably didn’t realize anything was amiss. He noted Pekoyama was breathing deeply, and making a point to hide it.

“Wh-What the...” Sakamoto’s mouth twitched. “Pekoyama, you didn’t say anything about seeing someone else! Why didn’t you _tell me?_ ” A strong hint of bitterness coated his voice.

“You didn’t ask,” she said darkly. “Or to be more accurate, you didn’t let me answer.”

Kuzuryuu craned his neck up, and he could see that Pekoyama had a dangerous look in her eyes, something that Sakamoto seemed to be finally becoming aware of. He didn’t know when to back off, though, and opened his mouth to say something stupid before another voice he recognized came crashing through the crowd. Mioda roared into their space, splitting the two parties apart like the Red Sea.

“Aha! Peko-Peko-chan, there you are! Ibuki thought you evaporated into thin air!” Mioda shouted over the crowd noise, wedging herself between them and Sakamoto. On instinct, Pekoyama released her grip on Kuzuryuu and put a few inches of space between them, but not before Mioda had already noticed.

She twisted around, inspecting the other boy for a second, and looked back at Pekoyama in wide-eyed astonishment. “Oho-hhh, _Peko_ -chan! You didn’t tell me _this!"_

Her face reddened. “Tell you what?”

“That it was official!” She pumped her fists into the air, nearly knocking out a student next to her. “You two have been acting like an old married couple since the beginning! Oh, you are BUSTED! B-U-S-T-E-D!! It’s a romantic Christmas date!”

“T-That’s...” Pekoyama quickly tried to correct her, but stopped herself.

“I knew it! Knew it, knew it, knew it!” She pointed a stiff index finger at their chests. “You think you’re sneaky, but you two have been SO super weird in class this whole time! Ibuki _knew_ something was up!”

Their act had to hold up in front of Sakamoto. They couldn’t tell her it wasn’t what it looked like. They had to keep it going, at least in this moment. Mioda vibrated with excitement.

“Who’s this, then?” Mioda looked back to Sakamoto, with a pitiful look on her face. “Third wheel, perhaps?” 

“Third wheel?!” he mouthed.

Before she could say anything else, the voices nearby them in the crowd suddenly became louder and louder, and before they knew it, another person else came ping-ponging into their circle. Owari, foaming at the mouth like a rabid animal, had pounded her way through the masses to find them. Her wide wingspan scattered the students in all directions, including Sakamoto, who disappeared behind another wall of partygoers.

“Aha! Kuzuryuu, my little dude!” She reached to grab him by the shoulders, but Kuzuryuu had already had his fill of being man-handled for the day, and stiff-armed her. She put her arms to her sides, fingers grasping at empty air. “You gotta know. _Someone’s_ gotta know.”

“What the heck?! Know what?”

“Where Hanamura’s hidin’ his snacks, of course!” she exclaimed. “He just spent all year hypin’ ‘em up, and now he won’t even tell me where they are! Don’t get me wrong, everything here’s pretty dang tasty, but it ain’t no Hanamura cuisine!”

He didn’t know how they were going to get out of this, but Owari’s arrival may have been their blessing in disguise. He looked at the clock. 8:06pm. 

Kuzuryuu had an idea.

“Don’t ask me,” he said slyly, “But see that guy over there? Pretty boy, in the white tuxedo?”

“Mm-hmm…”

“Apparently _he_ knows, and he won’t tell us either. We’ve been trying to get it out of him all night.”

“Oh yeah?” She leaned in, expression serious. Sakamoto was clawing his way through two larger students, trying to get back to where they were standing.

“And…” he added, just for good measure. “He just told us he’s gonna eat them all before any our class can get there. I heard he just filled his pockets full of ‘em.”

Owari got a wild look in her eyes, and pulled up her sleeves. She cracked her knuckles. “Oh, that bastard… he _won’t get away with this!!”_

Owari went flying towards him like she was shot out of a cannon, and the rest of the students in the area violently scrambled to fling themselves out of her way. Pekoyama, ducking under an elbow, directed Kuzuryuu away from the melee and into the nearest clearing, and from behind them, they could hear a cacophony of shouting, crashing, and jingling as students fell over each other and knocked over tables. A few moments later, they heard the sudden, piercing screech of Sakamoto, who Owari had apparently just caught up to. 

Maybe this Christmas party thing was worth coming to, after all.

The pushing and shoving created a domino effect that quickly compounded into full-on disorder. The center of the room had turned into what could best be described as a Christmas-themed mosh pit, set to the tune of jolly holiday pop tunes, and it was every man for himself out there. Kuzuryuu, Pekoyama, and Mioda escaped just in time as all hell broke loose around them. The student council, watching their months of hard work become engulfed in chaos, formed a band of tuxedoed soldiers to defend their party—but instead of working as intended, it completely backfired, and once the first student was shoved a little too hard and the first punch was thrown, the dance floor turned into an all-out battle royale. Someone was going to pay for this, and right now, it was everyone.

When they were free from the crush of students, he, Pekoyama and Mioda faded into a corner where they could at least hear each other talk. Mioda paced back and forth on her tiptoes, trying to spot Nanami in the pandemonium.

“I didn’t think she’d go THAT far… ugh, I hope she didn’t wander off playing that Pocketman Go again…” 

“Mioda, if we may have a minute,” Pekoyama stepped forward, touching her shoulder to get her attention. 

Mioda turned around. “Yeah? Did you see her?”

It was a quick save, as Mioda has almost wandered back into the fray. He didn’t know how they were going to back out of this one, but he was going to trust Pekoyama's judgement. There was no way Mioda would believe them if they tried to pass it off as an act. 

“No, but… listen. What you saw back there...” she swallowed. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone else. It wasn’t supposed to be out in the open yet. My parents are very strict, and if they find out I am seeing someone in high school, I will be grounded until I graduate.”

She gasped in horror. “Whaaat?! That would be terrible! Terrible with a capital T!”

“M-Mine too,” Kuzuryuu added, and Pekoyama glanced at him pensively. Another crash was heard in the distance, followed by another round of shouting. “It’d just be trouble all around. It’d be best to keep this on the down low.”

“Bad new bears, indeed!” she said. She turned to Pekoyama and grasped her palms in her hands, and Pekoyama rolled with it. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with Ibuki! Locked up in maximum security prison, with the key thrown into the ocean!” She tapped her temple.

“Thank you for understanding, Mioda,” she bowed lightly. It wasn’t a failsafe solution, but it was better than nothing. She wouldn’t have believed them any other way.

“No prob—OH! Nanami, _there_ you are!!”

Nanami calmly wandered out of the mob, only noticed because of her face illuminated by her bright phone screen. She looked up as Mioda waved her arms back and forth to flag her down.

“Oh, sorry. There was a Pocketman over by one of the ice sculptures, but I caught it,” she said. She spun her head around at the riot happening all around them. The dance floor had turned into a warzone. “What happened?”

There wasn’t time to explain before they all turned at the sound of a loud shriek. Glass was shattering. Lights flickered. The Christmas tree was falling over.

_The Christmas tree was falling over._

“I think this is a good time to get moving,” Kuzuryuu said, quickly sidestepping towards the exit, and the loud crash of a thousand plastic ornaments hitting the floor all at once followed soon after.

“I agree,” Pekoyama replied, and joined him.

The smart students had escaped out in the hallway long ago, and staff came rushing in from all directions to restore order. Kuzuryuu was impressed that they were even making the effort, as there was no salvaging _that_ disaster tonight, but at least it’d be a solid distraction. He and Pekoyama wouldn’t be able to stick around to enjoy any of the food or atmosphere that night, but it wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened—all things considered, for the purpose he came for, their evening was a relative success.

They dashed out of a side entrance, in the opposite direction of the rest of the students piling into the hallway, and out into the cold.

\---

They emerged into a winter wonderland—a real one.

The freezing rain had turned into snowfall while they were inside. Thick flakes fell from above, leaving a fresh coating of white powder over the school grounds. The rain left a layer of glimmering icicles on everything in sight, and the drifting snow seemed to sparkle as it floated through the streetlamps.

They stood there for a few seconds, enjoying the first real sign of winter they’d seen all year. Kuzuryuu held his hand out, letting the flakes melt onto his palm. Neither of them had bothered to grab their coats the way out—no one was manning the coat check, anyways—and Pekoyama tucked her arms inward to shield herself from the cold. She took the first few steps, looking backwards to see if Kuzuryuu was following, and once he realized she was waiting for him, he shook the melted flakes off his hand, wiped them off on his good pants, and marched onward.

Kuzuryuu always liked to think he was tough in the cold, based on the meaning behind his first name, but the truth of the matter was it affected him just as much as anyone else, if not more. He shivered so hard he nearly lost his footing, and tucked his arms under his shoulders as well. “Well, fuck… I sure hope they don’t expect us to go back there tomorrow and clean up _that_ mess. I think I need a day off.”

“I am sure it will be taken care of,” she said matter-of-factly. “The student council was in charge of setup as well as clean-up.”

“Right,” he said. “And I hope Owari ate Sakamoto, so I don’t have to see his stupid mug again.”

A sharp puff of air escaped her nose. “I hope so, too.” 

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and when she turned to see what was wrong, his eyes were pointed up at her, fresh snowflakes resting on his eyelashes. His amber irises reflected the orange glow of the streetlamps like a flickering flame. Individual snowflakes kept hitting his cheeks and melting on contact, and he took a moment to wipe them off on his sleeve. 

Somewhere deep inside of her, an old candle flitted back to life.

They walked alongside one another on their way back to the dorm building. The snowfall muffled the usual hum of the campus, offering a much-needed sense of peace and quiet for the first time that evening, though their footsteps still crunched on the sidewalk as they tread over the thin sheet of ice below. They moved at a brisk pace, hurrying to retreat back into warmth.

Kuzuryuu was quiet, focused on their destination. But there was still something she needed to tell him, something he needed to hear.

“Thank you… Fuyuhiko,” she said, meticulously enunciating the syllables of his name. It didn’t sound natural at all to her ears, but instead of reacting negatively, he turned his head up at her, breath fogging in the brisk air. “For coming tonight.”

He slowed to a near stop for a half-second, looking down at his shoes. “It was nothin’.”

“I think your idea seemed to work well.”

“Y-Yeah,” he said between shivers. “It got pretty crazy out there, but… yeah. I think so.” 

The rest of the party, of course, was another matter, but they didn’t need to worry themselves with it. He matched her pace, and brushed the snowflakes out of his hair. She was glad she opted for contacts that night.

“That was quite the stunt you pulled off back there,” he said, voice low. “I think he was pretty convinced.”

She tucked her arms in deeper. “You are a good actor.”

“Ha, well…” Kuzuryuu trailed off, letting his hands fall into his pockets. “You should know by now I’m _not_ a good actor.” 

She didn’t ask him what he meant by it. He was quiet for a few moments, cheeks glowing as they passed under one of the street lamps. In the still atmosphere, she heard his stomach groan, and he turned away, embarrassed.

“Fuck. I didn’t get to eat anything at the party. Did you?”

“Not really,” she said. She’d managed to get a small plate from Hanamura’s table before the incident, but that was it. She could eat.

“The only thing I have in my dorm is instant ramen. I might go somewhere to grab something.” he said. There was more he wanted to say, and she watched him carefully as he threaded his thoughts together. “I-If you’re bored, you can come with, I guess. It’s not a big deal.”

She did have homework, but it wasn’t important. Not right now. She remembered Miss Yukizome at the front of their class telling them to make memories. She lingered on the thought a few seconds too long, and he began to backpedal.

“I-I mean, if you’ve got stuff to do, then feel free to head back. I’ll just swing over there quick, and—”

“No, I would like that,” she assured him. The tightness seemed to relax in his muscles. “That sounds nice tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, suddenly reinvigorated. “Let’s go find someplace warm. There’s that shopping district just a block from campus. I think there’s a coffeeshop or two down there. I can cover for you, since it was my idea and all. It’s fine.”

“I thought you didn’t like coffee."

“Depends. Maybe I do,” he said. He could tell she didn't believe him. “They always have other stuff!”

She liked the way his voice jumped when he was flustered. It didn't take much to do so.

“Then we should hurry,” she said, readjusting her hands. “Before we freeze.”

“Y-Yeah, of course.”

They jogged the opposite way down the path and out the school gates, moving swiftly in the frigid temperatures. It wasn’t unbearable, but a block or two would be about their limit. Kuzuryuu must have been feeling it as well, as he stuck so close to her that he kept bumping into her shoulder, but she didn’t mind. The touch took her mind off the cold.

A short distance from campus, they reached a small district with a handful of shops and restaurants, and for a Friday night, there was barely a soul in sight. Looking closer, they could see most of the people were huddled inside, having already escaped from the winter weather. The street had been decorated extravagantly for the holidays, and the trees on each side of the sidewalk were wound so tight in white string lights that one could barely see the trunk underneath it.

On one corner of the intersection was a trendy Western-style coffeeshop, packed to the brim with people pushed up to the glass doors, and on the other side, there was an old-fashioned _Kissaten_ with faded written signs in the entryway and a flickering, barely-illuminated light over the front door.

Her eyes lingered on the older one, and Kuzuryuu agreed.

The bell above the door jingled as he pulled it open, and they stepped inside. The owner, an older, gray-haired Japanese man, greeted them warmly, albeit with a sense of surprise.

“I don’t see many Hope’s Peak students on this side of the street anymore,” the old man said, shuffling over to the other side of the counter. “Come in, come in, I’ll get some hot water going. Feel free to sit wherever you like.”

She chose a booth near the front, where they could see out the frosted windows, and Kuzuryuu slid in across from her. Besides an older couple at a booth in the far back, they were the only customers inside the restaurant. Pekoyama assumed they must have been regulars based on the way they chatted with the owner as he worked behind the counter. The older couple had looked surprised to see them too, though not in the way she’d come to expect—it was nice to be in a new place where they weren’t immediately recognized walking in the door. She could tell Kuzuryuu was thinking the same thing, his shoulders hanging loose at his sides instead of puffed up in his normal manner when they entered an establishment. They didn't need to be so on guard in a place like this.

The building was clearly old, but had been cared for well over the years. Dark wood paneling covered most of the walls, and a rich, heady aroma permeated the interior, left over from years of brewing. The cafe had been decorated modestly for the season, with some Christmas baubles and figurines here and there, and while it was kitschy, it didn’t look out of place.

He ordered a hot chocolate. She ordered a black tea. She cupped her mug in his hands, letting it warm her fingers. Kuzuryuu dipped his head down so low to smell his drink that the tip of his nose nearly touched the foam, but it seemed to pass his test, and he took a large swig of it.

The older man came back shortly after with their food menus. Kuzuryuu set his in front of him, not quite ready to look it over yet. Something was still on his mind.

“Thanks for stopping me at the party… when I was about to hit Sakamoto,” he said quietly. “I’d have _really_ been suspended if I'd have hit him back there. Even if he deserved it. Shallow prick.”

She dipped her chin, and stirred her drink. “It was nothing.”

“Really. You probably saved my ass there. Thanks.”

She watched his eyes follow the steam curling from his mug. The clinking of glasses could be heard from behind the counter.

“What happens now?” she asked. “With your group project, I mean? You will still need to present with him, won’t you?”

“Ah, well… I’ll worry about that after this weekend,” he said with a small laugh. “I’m sure I can put in a good word with the office to get reassigned. ‘Special Curriculum’ and all. There’s no way I’m spending another minute with that jackass.”

There’d be more to it than that, but he didn’t seem all that concerned about it, so she wouldn’t let herself be concerned with it either. He had his ways. She nodded in understanding, and turned back to her menu.

The warmth began to return to her fingers. The old man returned to take their orders, and promised he’d get to them right away. They assured him they were in no rush, and he seemed to appreciate the sentiment.

“We should do this more often,” Kuzuryuu said. “Get off campus, that is.”

She watched the snow fall behind him. It was nice here, away from noise, the other students, and all the things she didn’t quite understand yet. She’d have time to figure it all out, but for now, they were comfortable.

“I agree.”

His smile chased out the last bit of cold left in her, and they ate their meals in peace.

\---

The next Monday, on their way in, the commons area was completely spotless, devoid of glitter and ornaments and broken tables and drinks spilled all over the floor. It was obvious that some serious overtime had been put in to make it that way, and they noted a certain group of students had come in that day with especially heavy bags under their eyes. During the morning announcements, the president of the student council came on to make a public apology to the entire school—they guessed they’d been forced to by the administration—and vowed to make it up to them with an even better party next year. At the end of the speech, he promised there'd be some “changes” to their roster, and they couldn’t wait to find out.


End file.
